


Coming Home

by TenKnifeFoot



Category: Leverage
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22083871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenKnifeFoot/pseuds/TenKnifeFoot
Summary: Quinn and Shelley stage an intervention with Eliot about Feelings. It sends the hitter into a tailspin.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 24
Kudos: 161
Collections: 2019 Leverage Secret Santa Exchange





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BabylonsFall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/gifts).



> Oooooh, I adore your work on AO3, babylonsfall, and I’m SO excited to be able to write a fic for you!! I absolutely love your prompts, and they’re similar to a fic I’ve been looking for so long for myself, so hey, I thought I’d just write one for both of us, huh?? (And since I’m totally in love with Eliot—cuz let’s face it, who isn’t?—it’s going to be a hitter-centric fic.) I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> And BTW, this is chock full of prompts from Pinterest, so I’ll be adding it to my ‘Pinterest Prompts’ tag as soon as the fic is revealed to the public.
> 
> Also, this is a little bit non-linear, so bear with me.

_My mind's heavy and I can't sleep, not even a memory  
Is good enough to get me through the night.  
I'm longing for the real thing, people who know the real me  
And all the ways to love me back to life  
—Keith Urban, ‘Coming Home’_

“You just give off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at.” Eliot looked up at the speaker with a glare.

“Somewhere out there is a tree, tirelessly producing oxygen so you can breathe. I think you owe it an apology,” he snapped in return.

“Oh, come off it,” Shelley rolled his eyes, looking down at the hitter currently lying on the couch, his left leg bandaged from knee to hip under the blanket, brace still on his right knee, colorful bruises adorning what skin he could see. “You have to admit, yesterday was pretty….spectacular.”

Eliot just rolled his eyes and snorted.

**********************************************

“We have five people trying to kill us right now, what are we supposed to do?” The last words disappeared in a high squeak.

“Actually, it’s more like eight,” Eliot corrected dryly.

“Oh, sorry I wasn’t _specific_ enough!”

Hardison started to yammer in the back of the hitter’s brain as he moved into position, trying to keep all of the guards in sight. Eliot made sure the hacker was secure in the bank vault before launching himself at the eight men currently heading their way, looks of malice intent on their faces. All he had to do was keep them away from Hardison long enough for….

He felt the rush of air and dived toward the safe just as the explosion Parker had planned went off.

**********************************************

“There are at least seventeen ways that could have gone better. Literally. Like, I’m counting them right now, you moron,” Quinn added, lounging in the recliner, making it two against one as Eliot fumed on the couch.

“Seriously, would you two leave me the hell alone?” he sighed, trying to sink further into the cushions.

“Maybe we should work on the fact that you go in fists flying when things don’t go your way,” Shelley said, rubbing his chin in a way that reminded Eliot of Creepy Nate.

“It’s not like I had a choice,” the injured hitter retorted.

“Wasn’t really talking about the fight.”

Eliot scrunched up his face in confusion as the other two exchanged a Look. 

Parker bounced into the room unannounced, startling both Shelley and Quinn but having no effect on Eliot. “I fixed you breakfast! I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I can’t burn.”

Eliot accepted the bowl of sugar without comment. “Thanks, Parker,” he said, a wry smile answering her mega-watt grin.

”Well, that’s the closest I’ve ever come to a heart attack,” Shelley muttered under his breath, his hand clutched to his chest. “Let’s not do that again.”

Eliot smirked as Parker rabbited off the same way she’d come in, her blonde ponytail flying after her.

“That woman is right above ‘clown’ on my creepy scale,” Quinn said weakly as he watched the blonde hair streak around a corner and disappear….into the ceiling. “How…wait _what??_ ”

“Don’t try to figure it out, it’ll make your brain explode,” Eliot said mildly, looking for a place to put the cereal bowl down. Shelly came to his rescue and grabbed it, sitting down on the corner of the coffee table to start shoveling it into his mouth.

“…. _Ewwww…._ ” Eliot groaned, seven different expressions of disgust flitting across his face as he watched.

“Wha…?” Shelley mumbled around the mouthful. “Not like y’r gonna ea’ i’.” He swallowed. “You underestimate just how much food I can stuff into my mouth before I need to be stopped.”

“God, you’re just like Parker,” Eliot said, half in wonder.

“And that brings us back to the point,” Quinn jumped back in.

“What, top of your head?”

Quinn glared at Eliot. “Seriously, you were _never_ this full of smartass remarks before.”

“You got that right,” Shelley muttered around his mouthful of Frosted Sugar Bombs.

“Before _WHAT_?!” Eliot finally snapped, trying to push himself upright. “What the hell are you two yammering on about??”

“Theeeeere’s the famous Spencer temper we all know and love!” Shelley said, pointing at him with the spoon and then promptly shoving more Bombs into his mouth, directing the spoon and a pointed look at the other hitter.

“Fine!” Quinn huffed, throwing his arms up and glaring back at the obvious ploy to make him do the talking. “You and Hardison and Parker.”

Eliot waited for the rest of the words to come out of Quinn’s mouth, making a ‘well….what else?’ look as he motioned his good hand. “Aaaaaand?”

“And the fact that youguysareathreesome. Or at least you want to be,” he added under his breath.

“And the fact that….say _what??_ ”

“Told ya he was in denial.”

“Shut up, Shelley.”

“Yeah, shut up, Shelley,” Eliot echoed, then turned his laser gaze back to Quinn. “What did you just say?”

“Oh come on, you can understand English,” Quinn snapped. “As well as Farsi, Hebrew, Swahili, Mandarin, Russian…..shit, what languages _don’t_ you know?”

“Would you get back to the fucking point??!!”

Shelley put down the bowl of cereal as Quinn started to mutter under his breath this time. “You’ve been distracted on jobs,” he started ticking off on his fingers. “Every time one of them walks into the room your eyes go mushy, and that’s just the couple of times we’ve been here.”

“You drop everything for a text or call from them,” Quinn added. “You even worry about if they’ve eaten their vegetables, for God’s sake!”

“They’re my _team!!_ ” Eliot yelled, thankful that, at least to his knowledge, Parker and Hardison were staying in their own apartment next door and leaving the care of the injured hitter to the two back-ups that were here. “Of course I care about them! It’d be stupid if I didn’t!”

“And no one ever said that Eliot Spencer was stupid,” Quinn got out before Shelley leveled another glare at him. 

“What we’re trying to get at is that you seem to….”

“….have the hots for…”

“ _Like_ them,” Shelley said over Quinn’s mutter. “Like….a _lot_.”

“I do not,” Eliot growled. “I don’t know where you two got that ridiculously out-of-this-fuckin’- _universe_ idea, but you’re _wrong!_ ”

**********************************************

Parker slithered silently backwards out of the vent, her eyes blurry and wet. She sniffled once as she dropped to the floor, and Hardison instantly straightened, alarmed at her expression. “Hey, mama, hey, hey, baby girl! What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

“Eliot doesn’t like us,” her voice quavered. “Like….at _all_.”

His expression dropped from worry into abject rejection and he gathered her into his arms as she began to softly cry.

She and Hardison had been increasingly aware of Eliot’s attention on them since Nate and Sophie had left, they way he seemed more concerned if one of them got hurt, even a little bit, or the way he was over more and more often, cooking them near-feasts nearly every night. Or the way his eyes lit up when they walked near him, and the way his hands lingered on their shoulder or arm a little longer than usual when he walked past them.

They’d wondered if he was trying to tell them something.

But apparently he was not.

**********************************************

Shelley and Eliot had been on a job together in Yemen just before the job that Parker was masterminding, and Eliot had come home a little the worse for wear, wearing a brace on his right knee and nursing a mild concussion. Parker took one look at Shelley and pronounced _him_ the hitter for her job, since he’d been the one who’d ‘broken’ Eliot in the first place. Eliot had argued at first, but Parker would not be swayed, and because he was bored, Shelley had jumped at the opportunity. Eliot would be there as well, but only as back up.

When they’d gotten into the Markerston Building and come face to face with the security, both Shelley and Eliot had paused in surprise for a split second, because Quinn’s face was in the back of the group. The third hitter had looked a little surprised himself at first but then just smirked and shrugged, turning on ‘his team’ of guards, and the three hitters took them all down without breaking a sweat.

Quinn stayed on the first floor shoving the unconscious guards into various closets while Eliot and Shelley herded Hardison to the tenth floor, Parker giggling in their ears the whole way as Quinn cursed. _Now_ he was working up a sweat.

When Hardison finally cracked the code for the inner door, Eliot pushed him inside the vault, having heard thunderous stomping footsteps heading their way. Shelley positioned himself in a nook in the hallway and waited until the group of guards passed him, heading for Eliot, who was standing in front of the open door.

The two hitters now had the eight men between them and they attacked, knowing that Parker was setting the bomb across the building from them. They’d only just managed to down the last man when they heard Parker’s warning, and in the fight Eliot and Shelley had somehow switched positions, with Shelley closest the vault.

“Three! TWO!! _ONE!!_ ” they heard Parker yell over the comms, and Eliot hurled himself toward the vault. The air was sucked out of the room just before Shelley grabbed ahold of his forearm, yanking him into the safety of the metal room as the explosion roared around them. A shard of metal whizzed through the air, slicing up Eliot’s thigh and hip just as the vault door slammed shut, and he landed on Shelley and Hardison.

**********************************************

“Seriously, I’ve never seen you so distracted on jobs before,” Shelley observed. “Between the job last week and today, it’s like a 180° turnaround. You were hyper focused when we were taking on the Yemeni but those rent-a-cops? They would’a clocked you half a dozen times because you were so worried about hacker boy.”

“And when we were draggin' your ass out of the vault, all you could ask about was if Parker was alright, if Parker had gotten out safe. Parker, Parker, Parker. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig but _Parker_ was your first concern,” Quinn added.

“They’re my _TEAM!!!_ ” Eliot snapped again. “Of _course_ they’re my first concern!”

“Over your life?” Shelley asked.

“Hell, yes! Now get the _hell_ out of here!”

“Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, you know,” Quinn said softly, his eyes boring into Eliot’s. “And you got yourself a serious case of it.”

**********************************************

Quinn and Shelley finally left the wounded hitter alone, having said their piece. They were worried about Eliot’s ability to concentrate on the jobs at hand without letting his obviously growing feelings for the other two get in the way. While not having Eliot Spencer in the hitter community would be beneficial to Quinn’s paycheck, he wasn’t willing to let a friend die because of a distraction. And Shelley was a former brother-in-arms, and there was no way he would ignore Eliot’s conundrum.

So now, having brought the subject to light, they left Eliot to muddle through what they’d said.

And a muddle it was.

For most of his life, Eliot had struggled with feelings. His mother, beloved though she’d been, had left him way too soon, and as a result his father had turned to the bottle. Never in his life since his mother died had he been on the receiving end of affection. After her death, his father grew terse and withdrawn to the point of Eliot having to raise himself. He’d thought what he’d had with Aimee was love, but in the end it was just a chance for him as a young man to sow his oats, and when he’d returned to find her marrying another man, it had only strengthened walls that he’d started erecting during his enlistment. After leaving the states again, his employment under Moreau only pushed him further back into himself.

If anything, he was even more confused than Parker was when it came to Feelings. While it seemed as if he was worldly, highly knowledgable and self sufficient, he was just lost when it came to relationships. His flings had been exactly that: flings. He’d had no reason to want to stay with one particular person, and his attitude had come across to others as being untethered, a man worth a one night stand, two at most. He hadn’t attracted anyone who’d wanted anything longer. His partners seemed to sense his distance and responded in kind, taking him for a night and gone in the morning.

Never one to even be _able_ to stay in one place for any length of time, he’d never really desired staying put for long either. Three months here, a year there, the longest he’d been with anyone was with the team.

But then Nate and Sophie had left, and it had been him with Parker and Hardison. At first it had been fine; the three had been able to relax and spread their wings a little, testing their footing in the world of Leverage International. The first jobs were tentative, but with practice and experience, the trio had solidified into a smoothly working unit and it seemed like they were always able to read each others minds, knowing what each other wanted and needed.

Until it came to Feelings. Eliot knew that Parker and Hardison loved each other, and had for years. Their relationship was special, _sacred_ to Eliot, and when he’d seen it first blossoming he had vowed to protect it from everything, most _especially_ from himself. He hadn’t lied to himself in the beginning—Parker was…intriguing, beautiful, and dangerous. And Hardison, once the banter was stripped aside, was desirable both physically and intellectually. But they’d initially gravitated toward each other. Eliot was relegated to friend and he had stepped back graciously as long as he was able to stay with them.

In the intervening years his feelings for both had only gotten stronger, but he’d hidden them from himself so well that he hadn’t even noticed until after Nate and Sophie had left. When asked to stay, he’d promised, ’Til my dyin’ day’, not even hesitating. 

When he’d taken a moment to think about his words, he realized he’d essentially vowed to stay with Parker and Hardison until he died.

Well…. Shit.

Without the two older members of the team running interference between them and the hitter, Hardison and Parker wormed their way past the hitter’s defenses, meager as they were by that time. It had been hard enough on Eliot when the team numbered five, but now, with only the two of them on Eliot’s radar, said radar was broken and nothing else even blipped.

Earlier in his life, Eliot had spent the night with whomever took his fancy, and as often as he’d wanted to. Since he’d joined the team though, he’d lived a mostly celibate life, which was both funny and pathetic to him. Oh, he pretended to be the player, but that was mostly just to keep up his image and maintain the wall between himself and his helpless, hopeless desires. Without the buffer of Nate and Sophie though, he couldn’t deny that he was hopelessly in love with the other two.

**********************************************

Over the following month, now that Quinn and Shelley had brought the situation to his attention, Eliot was even more careful to restrain himself. He still cooked for Parker and Hardison, but he started to make excuses to leave earlier and earlier. At first ‘his leg was bothering him’ and he needed to go home and ice it, or stretch it, or soak it, or….. Then he needed to get back into the gym to exercise and get the leg and knee back to full strength, and then…. Then he just let it become habit that he left after supper, heading home.

For their part, the other two let him. After hearing what she had from the air duct, Parker was convinced that Eliot was staying with them out of duty to Nate and Sophie and nothing else. Gone were his extra little touches, and she made herself think they’d never been there in the first place; that it had been wishful thinking. He left after they ate now, not staying for their usual relaxing ritual of movies or gaming, out the door as soon as he finished washing the dishes.

Even though his cooking was the same, Parker still tasted sadness.

**********************************************

_I wake up feeling, in my soul I'm  
Living someone else's life  
I'm turning into concrete, harder than these city streets  
Where no one even cares if I'm alive._

Eliot moved slightly, the person in the bed next to him sleeping soundly. For some reason he’d felt extra restless that night after supper, and when he’d left, he headed to a bar. Unthinking, he’d been amused by a perky blonde with gloriously long hair flirting with him, and he’d flirted back, one thing leading to another until he let her lead him to her apartment. Shaking his head, he slid out of her bed and dressed silently before ghosting out of the room. He let himself out after placing a note on her bedside table, then locked the door behind him. 

The next weeks followed that pattern, except that he didn’t stick with women; a few men entertained his nights as well. He didn’t frequent any one bar but wandered around to whichever one caught his fancy that night. He went home with others at least three or four nights a week, slipping out of their homes well before daylight and meandering back to his apartment, hands shoved into his pockets, wondering what the hell he was doing.

He didn’t even notice that his partners could have been dopplegangers for Parker and Hardison.

**********************************************

After the fifth week of aimless searching for nightly warmth, Eliot came down with one hell of a cold, bad enough that Parker sidelined him and declared no jobs until he was better. He argued, of course, because that’s what he did, but she ignored him. When his head was so stuffed he couldn’t concentrate, she said, he was at risk for missing a critical guard or rotation that he would normally see coming from miles away.

Resentful that she thought his ‘little cold’ would interfere with his professionalism, he disappeared and holed himself up in his tiny apartment. 

**********************************************

Unknown to Eliot, a worried Hardison was searching for him on traffic cams, and accidentally watched a feed from three nights previous, finding the hitter. Oddly enough, he saw Eliot walking with a lithe blonde woman, and he wondered for a moment if it was Parker; the similarities were eerie. The hitter had his arm around the woman and she was leaning into him, and then they disappeared into a brownstone. Fast forwarding a bit, Hardison saw Eliot leave alone a few hours later, in the early pre-dawn.

His curiosity now piqued, the hacker went back the previous night. Then again. And again. In the end he found five weeks worth of Eliot going home with either Parker’s twin or tall, handsome black men that looked a lot like him.

Sitting back, he pondered the information.

**********************************************

Without jobs to help him let off steam and unable to summon the energy to go to the gym or even bat at his punching bag, Eliot had more time than he wanted to sit alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that invariably wandered back to Parker and Hardison, and the myriad of faceless people who’d lately entertained him for a few hours at a time.

He came to a depressing conclusion: he loved Parker and Hardison. He was _in love_ with Parker and Hardison.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

Damn Quinn and Shelley anyway for bringing up that fact. His emotions had been in absolute turmoil for the past two months as he’d first healed from the explosion and then tried to find comfort with his nightly paramours. Although he’d been a very generous lover, he’d never been satisfied himself and that was why, after having exhausted his partner each night, he’d simply left.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. They’d given nearly as good as they’d gotten, but each night was a thorough disappointment for Eliot. He’d never had a problem with unemotional encounters in the past, but for some reason, they now seemed like an addiction that wouldn’t ever assuage his hunger for….something. For Parker. And for Hardison.

Lying in his bed, feeling nothing but the emptiness that filled him, he found himself staring at the wall, eyes suspiciously damp. Parker and Hardison loved each other. Really _loved_ each other, and he could never let himself do anything that would jeopardize either one of them. They deserved each other, and the bond between them was as strong as anything Eliot had ever seen. Besides, given a choice, he wouldn’t be able to choose between them anyway; both had equal hold on Eliot’s heart.

Which was why he’d never tell either one that he loved them.

**********************************************

“I’m tellin’ ya, we just gotta talk to the man.” Hardison was sitting at his computers, having showed Parker the footage he’d sifted through showing Eliot with his partners.

“But…why?” she asked again, unsure of exactly what he was showing her.

“Because, he don’t know what he’s doin’!” he said.

“He’s taking those people to bed,” she replied bitterly. “He’s taking _them_ , and not us.”

“I know, mama,” Hardison said softly, gentling his demeanor for her. “Because he loves _us_ but he don’t know what to do about it.”

“No, he doesn’t! He _doesn’t_ love us! Don’t you remember what he told Quinn?” she cried, her hands clenching into fists as her heart spasmed. “He thinks it’s a joke!”

“No, no he doesn’t.” Hardison reached forward, taking the thief’s cold hands into his. “Look at them. The ones he’s going home with,” he encouraged, looking at the screen as the Parker-twin smiled at Eliot. 

She looked, and only saw a blonde fawning over the hitter’s muscular arms.

“Look at that other one.”

Her eyes slid to another long haired blonde. Then another. And another.

“They all…. They, they look…like _me_ ,” she said in a small voice.

“Yeah they do,” he smiled, seeing her make the connections. “And the guys…they look like me.”

“The guys?” she asked, moving her gaze to Hardison, and he switched the feed to show Eliot with the taller, lanky men. “Oh.” She paused. “So…what are we going to do?” Her voice was unsure and very unlike Mastermind Parker.

“We’re gonna go over to his place and talk to ‘im,” Hardison said confidently. “And then, then we’re gonna take care of his cold-infested, cranky ass.”

**********************************************

Eliot couldn’t get warm. This cold from hell was kicking his ass. He was hiding under a mountain of quilts and comforters, heating pads on his back, legs and feet, dressed in his warmest sweats and wool socks and he was still freezing.

His doorbell rang.

“Fuckit…” he mumbled, not even opening his eyes. Any deliveries could either wait on his doorstep or come back later for another try.

His doorbell rang again.

“Screw you, I ain’t gettin’ up.” His voice was raspy and broken, interrupted by a hacking cough near the end.

The doorbell rang again, this time sounding like someone was leaning on it.

He growled. “ ‘M gonna _kill_ ya!” he finally croaked, digging his way out of under the blankets and immediately starting to shake violently. His head pounded and he stumbled, arms wrapped around himself to ward off the chill. “Ya better be fuckin’ dyin’!” he tried to yell.

The doorbell stopped for a moment and then the knob rattled as someone started to pick the lock. “Aw, hell. Should’a known,” he muttered, watching the door open with an unrepentant Parker beaming at him. Hardison stood behind her, grinning like an idiot.

“Ugh,” Eliot groaned, changing direction and shuffling to the couch to grab up a fleece blanket, wrapping it around himself. “Whaddya want?” he croaked, looking at them blearily. “Thought we didn’ have jobs yet.”

“Hardison says we have to talk,” Parker said brightly, more upbeat than she’d been in months.

Eliot just stared at her blankly.

“Sit yo ass on that couch,” the hacker said, walking toward Eliot. “Ya look like ya died and forgot to lay down.”

Eliot’s brain kicked in slowly as Hardison steered him to the couch and he balked. “What are you two doing here?” he asked again, turning toward them.

“We need to talk,” she repeated, and Eliot shuddered inwardly at her cheerful grin. Either way, that manic look on her face spelled _some_ kind of doom for him.

He grunted and batted at Hardison’s hands, backing up enough to thump gracelessly down onto the end of the couch. He grabbed another afghan and buried himself in it, glaring at them. “Fine,” he rasped, then coughed. “Then talk.”

The other two glanced at each other and sat down, Hardison on the other end of the couch as Parker perched on the coffee table beside him, drawing her legs up and hugging them to herself. “Why aren’t you sleeping with us?” she blurted.

Eliot blinked as freight train Parker hit, his crap-filled brain not processing the meaning. “….What?”

“El, lately you’ve been…well, umm,” Hardison hummed, floundering.

“You’re going to bed with the ones who look like us but aren’t us, and we want to know why,” Parker supplied, confusing Eliot even more.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, starting to get a glimmer of understanding as he saw the guilt in Hardison’s eyes. “Wait…have you… Have you been _stalking me??_ ” he snapped, sitting up a little straighter.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘stalking’….” Hardison used the finger quotes, his shoulders hunched a little. “But…”

“The cameras showed you going home with Parker- and Alec-twins!” Parker said, frowning a little.

“The fuck….” Eliot muttered, turning his glare to Parker and then back again. “You don’t have any business telling me who I can and can’t go home with. Why do ….” His tirade was interrupted again with a flurry of coughs, and he hunched in the blanket as he hacked, finally looking back up at them with watery eyes. “Why do you even care??” he finished, his voice rough.

“El, babe,” Hardison started gently, moving a little closer.

“I am not your _’babe’_!” Eliot ground out, wheezing.

“Would it matter if we wanted you to be?” the hacker asked.

“Dammit, Hardison! Don’t do this to me!”

“We just want to know why you’re sleeping with them,” Parker said again in a small voice, and Eliot’s heart and control broke.

“ _Because I can’t have YOU!!_ ” he snapped, the wet eyes from his coughing turning into tears, but he wouldn’t ever admit that to them.

All three of them froze in place, looking as if they’d been hit with a load of bricks. Hardison and Parker were stunned by Eliot’s anguished confession, Eliot because it had actually come out of his mouth.

“Because I can’t have you, okay?” Eliot repeated, his brain finally kicking back in, deciding that since he’d already let the cat out of the bag, he might as well own it. “What you two have… I won’t ever get in the way of that, okay? You don’t have to worry if I’ll get in the middle, ‘cuz you two, you belong together, and I… I just wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Either of you.” His eyes flicked between the two silent thieves. “If you don’t believe me…I mean, if you want me to go, I can…”

“You can do nothin’,” Hardison finally managed to interrupt, his own blue screen rebooting. 

“You aren’t going to go anywhere,” Parker added softly. “We don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“ ‘Cept maybe back to bed,” Hardison said with a grin. “That cough you got…”

“Wait, wait,” Eliot broke in. “No, you don’t get it. I won’t get between you…”

“We want you between us,” Parker said, and Eliot gaped like a mouth-breathing fish. “I mean….I said that right, didn’t I? I did it right?” She looked at Hardison, who chuckled.

“Yeah, mama, you did it right.”

“Then why is Eliot broken?”

“I’m not…Dammit, Parker! You’re not listening!” Eliot snapped again, unable to logically process what he was hearing. His heart had already grabbed at the words and was hoarding them close, hoping against all hope that he’d heard right, but his brain still refused to let him have what his heart needed.

“Yes, we are!” Hardison finally yelled, trying to get the stubborn hitter to stop denying himself. “Stop saying that we don’t know what we’re saying! We’re saying that we love you, you damn idiot!”

A pole-axed Eliot sat on the couch, blinking.

“Now you broke him more,” Parker whined.

“We’ll fix him,” he hissed back, still watching Eliot, and Parker, satisfied with that answer, joined him.

“You…” Eliot stammered, his mouth moving but not making any more words.

“Love you.” Hardison finished, upset when the other man’s eyes narrowed and he started to shake his head slowly. “Believe us, man. We do. We love you.”

Eliot wanted to believe them so badly. He wanted to reach out and let himself hold them, to let them hold _him_. But he didn’t know how.

Parker must have seen the struggle within and unfolded her legs, stood up, and padded over to the couch where Eliot was curled up. She pulled the pillow out from behind his back and motioned to the hacker, who stood up and stepped closer. Eliot sat still, looking up at them, his eyes wide as he watched them move around him.

Tugging Hardison’s sleeve, the tiny thief maneuvered him to sit down on the couch at Eliot’s back in place of the pillow, which, once he knew what Parker wanted, Hardison was all in favor of. He settled into the end of the couch, wrapped his arm around Eliot and pulled him close, snugging the hitter into his chest.

Eliot’s eyes were still wide as Parker knelt down in front of him, reaching out to smooth a lock of hair away from his eyes and tuck it behind his ear. Her heart clenched as she saw wetness shimmering in the hitter’s eyes.

“We love you, Eliot,” she said softly, her hand on his cheek as the tear slipped out the corner of his eye. “We do.”

“We’ve loved you for a long time, we were hoping that you’d come to us,” Hardison’s voice rumbled through his chest, the vibrations soothing.

“You mean…” Eliot’s voice hitched. “Quinn….and Shelley..?”

“We didn’t know they were going to drop that bombshell on you,” Hardison said, and Eliot could feel him shaking his head. “We never told them anything.”

“But they were right,” Parker added, her hand still stroking Eliot’s temple. “We…us three…”

“We’re good with two,” Hardison said. “But we’re better with three.”

Eliot looked hard into Parker’s eyes, and she let him. She let him see the endless faith she had in him, faith that he’d never let anything bad happen to them; the trust she held for him, that she could fling herself at him and he’d never let her fall. As much as she hated opening herself up to anyone, she let him see everything inside her eyes, and she knew that she had him.

“Do you believe us?” she whispered.

His brows drew together and he finally nodded, wordlessly.

Moving as slowly as she would have toward a skittish and wounded puppy, she reached forward and wrapped her arms around him from the front as Hardison wrapped his around the hitter from the back.

Letting them trap him between them should have made Eliot fight like hell to get free. 

Instead it felt like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagined a different ending for this, but it felt finished as it is. I do believe I may come back for a second chapter, but I needed to get this much done for the deadline, so I hope you enjoyed!!


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